


flickering light

by yummy_yogurt_drink



Series: Cold Bones [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Amnesia, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, F/M, False Identity, Identity Issues, Implied past James Bond/Q, Intersex, Manipulation, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mpreg, Omega James Bond, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Shower Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 19:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20141068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yummy_yogurt_drink/pseuds/yummy_yogurt_drink
Summary: Sometimes, the strange, almost too vivid dreams did make him sort of wonder about where they were coming from.





	flickering light

**Author's Note:**

> **Please heed the WARNINGS in the tags.** Back out if any of the tags squick you.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is purely a work of fiction in nature, and the author does not condone any of the implications that exist in this work in real life.

_ The first time he had actually lost control was back when he had experienced his first heat in the confinement of Eton’s heat suite, unsuspecting and careless and so, so young. He hadn’t liked the complete haze that it had shrouded him in, the lack of self proprietary. Of self-control. _

_ It had made him feel weak, and everything had started right in the middle of class, too, such was his luck, and by the time it ended, already, people had looked at him differently—a mixed bag of pity and intrigue, amusement, and worse, perversion. Even amongst the crowd he had usually run with. _

_ It had been disgusting, as though some fundamentally core part of his being had changed in the eyes of these people, despite the fact that he had been just the same as he had ever been. _

_ So he had gone ahead and decided to fuck a maid, a pretty thing whose name he couldn’t quite remember, had gotten her so worked up that she had shouted his name as she came, shivering and twitching in his arms. _

_ They had suspended him after that, looking entirely disgusted now, and honestly, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. _

* * *

He let out a trapped huff of air when the tip of her nose brushed over his clit just as she licked a stripe up along his quivering slit. His hips canted forward in a shuddering motion, trying to instinctively follow her retreating mouth as though asking for more.

Not that he wasn’t asking for more, but well…

“What were you dreaming of?” Madeleine asked suddenly, hot water cascading all around them, and he was still in a daze.

“What?” he breathed, eyelids fluttering as he blinked the droplets of water away.

“You woke up in a cold sweat,” she continued like there had been no interruption, nuzzling against his inner thigh now and sending shivers up his spine. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Oh,” he said over the roar of rushing blood in his ears, which was just starting to marginally calm… until she sucked a bruise into the sensitive flesh near his groin. He hissed. “I… just—” What was he about to say again? “A weird dream.”

“Hm?” she prompted, leaning in to kiss the stretched skin of his stomach whilst simultaneously dipping a delicate digit into the hot pool of slick between his legs.

“Something about… my Eton days,” he gasped, a whimper building in the back of his throat. “_Christ_, Madeleine!”

At this, she looked up to meet his eyes and grinned, cheeky and entirely unapologetic, the blond curls of her golden hair wet and shielding away half of her face like a waterfall of radiant sunlight, and he liked her like this. Even when she was teasing him within an inch of his life.

“Shh,” she hushed him, pulling back her hand that had been scissoring inside of him and reaching up to slip those very fingers into his mouth. 

He barely hesitated before starting to suck on them, tasting himself on her.

“Wouldn’t want to wake Veronica now, would we.” She tilted her head to the side, mirth gleaming in her bright eyes as she spread him even farther apart.

He shifted from where he sat, not for the first time grateful for the bench that Madeleine had had included in the booth of their shower stall, and complied easily enough.

Soon, she popped her fingers out of his mouth. “You were saying?”

He swallowed thickly, a niggling sensation in the back of his mind that he didn’t quite understand, and repeated breathlessly, “My Eton days,” before adding, “but something was off.”

“Yes?” She surged up to press kisses after kisses over his lips, stealing the breath from right out of his own lungs. 

“I was…” he couldn’t help frown a little as he tried to grasp for the memory of that one particular dream. “I was fucking a maid… out of spite, I think.”

Madeleine paused for a fraction of a second before resuming once more on her assault of kisses, this time on his neck and all over his throat. 

“Which was weird.” He slipped his hands down along the smooth silk of her milky back and wrapped his legs around her waist. “I’ve never done that.”

She hummed, fixing her position for a bit, then entered him swiftly without a single utterance of a warning, eliciting sharp gasps from the both of them as they arched into one another.

“Might be a case of…” Madeleine panted into his ear, the nipples of their breasts touching when she pulled out, leaving behind just the tip of her cock tethering at the rim of his entrance, and slammed back in again, “dreaming about the things you entertain in your waking thoughts?”

With the pace she was setting for them, he could barely chuckle, despite the playful, teasing lilt in her tone. “I doubt it,” he said, moaning into her hair at the delicious burn of cock in his twitching pussy. “Considering that the damn pregnancy has driven my hormones through the roof, and I can only think of getting off on your dick every which way now.”

“Only _ now _, though?” she nibbled on his earlobe, slowing her thrusts down to the bare minimum speed, which got him whining instantly. 

At this point right then, dignity was a concept beyond his capability.

“No… Of course not,” he whimpered, unable to stop his blunt fingernails from digging into her skin, toes curling on their own accord. “Madeleine…”

“Yes, I know, love.” She smiled into their kiss and returned to fucking him in earnest. “I know.”

-

They fucked again later after they had retreated back to the comfort of their bed, slow and lazy and contented, and Madeleine knotted him this time, stuffing him to the brim and dispelling almost everything else unrelated from his mind.

-

He sat down at his desk with a scowl and gulped down some water, trying to tame his temper.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like working in a traveling agency as a tour guide, even if, sure, it could get a little boring sometimes, but at least introducing people around to the landmarks and other points of interest kept him on his feet, moving out and about from one place to another.

But then pregnancy happened, and now he’d just been _ politely _ asked to cut back on his active tour-guiding hours.

Just because he was showing more thanks to the fact that this was his second pup didn’t mean he wasn’t _ only _ 18 weeks along.

Half of him wanted to resign; the other half was just a little nervous about the rest of the remaining job prospects that he would have were he to quit right then.

They still had to pay rent and raise a small child, and there was only so much Madeleine’s salary and inheritance could cover for them. At least the above-mediocre wages here and its other parental leave benefits weren’t too bad at helping them cover living costs.

Also, this was probably the least boring job he was ever going to get out here.

(_ Why was he here again? _)

“Hey, Jamie.”

He snapped out of his train of thought and looked up to see Elisabeth, the Beta who worked with him from the next desk over, enter the room, a quizzical look in her eyes.

“Hello, Sisi,” he greeted back and shifted in his seat.

“You’re back early.” She blinked. “Is something the matter?”

He sighed before shaking his head. “No. Nothing at all.”

* * *

“Did you find anything on the body?”

The MI6 designated coroner shook his head. “Not much.” He picked up a plastic bag full of random things and handed it over. “I was able to recover a couple of the IDs that we issued him, but aside from that, our man has been stripped of anything else consequential that might have offered any sort of information.”

Q clenched his jaw and stared at the agent they had supposed to have picked up from the airport _ alive _earlier that morning, now having been stabbed and left for death in a back alley, and tried not to let his emotions get the better of him.

“I understand. Send me the full report once you’re done,” he said, steeling his spine and turning toward the exit.

In that split second, verging at the edge of his peripheral view, he thought he saw that dark hair of the poor agent flash gold, and Q squeezed his eyes shut, hands balling into tight fists.


End file.
